by A. L. Knorr
I felt the penny soften as I channeled all my focus into a tight prescriptive combustion. Burn the penny, not the bell. As the liquid copper began to drip, I caught it in my other hand to keep it from dribbling onto the bell. I pulled the heat out of it, cooling into a lump in my palm. The last of the penny oozed away.
Not wanting to risk temporary deafness if I could help it, I vaulted over the banister and cushioned my landing with detonations as the hammer struck the bell.
A shaft of light appeared across the floor as the first bong sounded. Dazed, more from the sudden and unexpected appearance of light than the game-maker’s version of the sound of Big Ben, I shook off a bit of vertigo.
The light was coming from beneath the panel. At the second bong of the bell, the panel scraped upward further, thickening the shaft of light. The smell of the fire-gym drifted to my nose and a distant voice came through.
As the third bong lifted the panel further, I dove forward and crouched in front of the opening. It wasn’t big enough for me to fit through, yet.
BONG.
It lifted another three inches.
BONG.
One more and I could squeeze through. Peering into the space behind the panel revealed a square shaft about ten feet long.
BONG.
Head first, shoulders scraping along the sides of the narrow shaft, I army crawled through it. When I spilled out on to the floor of the fire-gym, sucking in air, the bongs of the bell were muffled.
Guzelköy appeared out of nowhere and helped me to my feet. “Well done, Ms. Cagney!”
I got to my feet and oriented myself. The fire-gym was almost its old self, with the exceptions of two black boxes the size of small two-story houses taking up part of the floor.
“Is he out?” I dusted myself off, looking for evidence that a square hole had been opened in the side of the other escape room. I hoped his shaft would be larger than mine, otherwise he’d never fit through.
“No. You’ve beaten him. But all his clocks are in sync, so he should be out any moment.”
“What happens if he doesn’t get the penny out before the clock strikes twelve?” I asked as Guzelköy escorted me to the fire-gym’s doors.
“Then he has to figure it out before the clock strikes one. Best run along. Dr. Price is waiting for you.”
Twenty-Four
How It Should Feel
“It’s because of Babs, of course.” I said as I followed Tomio into the quiet gloom of the CTH. It didn’t help that it was raining again and the skylights let in a cold, diffuse light like that of a dreary evening, even though it was before lunchtime. I flicked on one set of lights.
“I know, but I thought if Babs wasn’t around, maybe she’d loosen up.” Tomio rolled his neck and shoulders as we walked into the middle of the nearest dojo. He’d doubled his efforts to get Eira to talk after she’d beat Harriet at the escape room. “I found her by the vending machine at the end of Victory Hall and tried to chat her up while we were alone. When she went down to the beach for a walk, I did my best to appear as though I, too, like to walk the beach in the rain, and oh why don’t we walk together?”
I laughed at his impression of himself trying to be flirty and appearing ridiculous.
He smiled, but shook his head. “I’ve never made such a fool of myself before, even for a girl I liked. She barely even looked at me. Just hurried away like she thought I was going to mug her.”
“Babs has really got her scared.” I stretched out my shoulders and quads, getting ready to tune up my muscles.
Tomio dropped forward and stretched out his hamstrings, putting his face into his shins and folding himself in half so perfectly it was painful to watch.
I worried my lower lip with my front teeth as I thought about my enigmatic opponent for the last challenge of the games. Guzelköy and Davazlar were neutral and anal with their rules, I trusted them to run a fair tournament. I didn’t see how anyone could pull one over on the game-makers. “Do you really think they’re hiding something?”
Tomio straightened, his cheeks flushed with blood as he rolled his eyes. “Is a frog’s butt watertight? Of course they are.”
“But Eira is still in the game, meaning she hasn’t broken any rules. So how do I prepare for a fight with someone who might have unknown abilities?”
Tomio swung his limbs into a relaxed fighting stance, his eyes gleaming. He beckoned me with his fingertips. “Do what you do best. Use your strengths.”
I blew out a breath and let my body arrange itself into the fighting stance that felt the most natural. Then I moved forward into an attack, unleashing a flurry of punches and kicks, invading Tomio’s space.
He blocked them fluidly, always defending, letting me warm up and work myself into a rhythm. As our dance took us fluidly across the floor, I turned off the stream of mental chatter and relaxed into my body, letting my energy flow. The sensitivity of my skin increased, power from my fire became soft and fluid, yet throbbed pleasantly in my joints.
Tomio was a blur of limbs, a flash of dark eyes here, a glimpse of white teeth there. When he took me down, I rolled into it, using momentum to carry me out of trouble. When I took him down, he carried me over with him, taking the lead away from me before giving it back. We circled the mats, swept over every corner, and filled the CTH with the sound of expelled breath, thuds of body contact, and high-pressured sighs. We were heat and thunder, a rolling undertow, flying dancers.
And suddenly Tomio was kissing me, propelling me backward across the mat, all sparring forgotten.
My world tilted and my stomach jumped up to the base of my neck in surprise. A different kind of heat rushed through me, turning the power in my joints into melted marshmallow. The feeling of his lips on mine, his skin on mine, shook me. My mind guttered and whirled. The sensation of being kissed without any fire to numb it lifted gooseflesh across my arms and back. It filled my belly with a liquid warmth that had nothing to do with supernatural flames.
And then I was kissing him back, pressing myself into him as his arms wrapped around me, his hand cupping the back of my head. We shared exhales and inhales and my heart rose and rose and rose. Kisses with Gage didn’t feel like this.
Gage.
Tomio broke the kiss. He stepped away and I felt bereft, if my skin could cry out for that touch, it would have keened.
We looked at one another. I shuddered as Tomio’s eyes widened. He lifted a hand to his lips, horror rushing into his face. “I’m sorry. My—what have I done?”
I put a hand out and wanted to say that I was sorry too, but I couldn’t talk, and was I sorry?
“Tomio.” His name came out on a husk of sound.
He shook his head, covered his eyes. “I didn’t mean for—”
He backed away, eyes wide and full of shame. His expression was a knife in my gut.
“Wait,” I croaked.
He turned, mumbling apologies. Then he was a figure outlined in the open doorway, then he was gone.
My skin prickled. My knees were shaking, my thighs—so full of power a moment ago—felt like pudding. I sank onto the mat, landing on my knees and sitting back on my heels. I lifted fingers to my lips, where the feel of Tomio’s kiss still lingered. I had felt everything. Every cell had been awoken. His warmth, his sweetness and softness, his breath. I felt it all, and, while my brain stalled, my body wanted more as I re-lived how the kiss felt. With no fire in the way, it had been amazing. Or was I just so unaccustomed to the feeling that all it took was a simple kiss from someone with whom I didn’t share a bond, to unleash this flood of feelings?
And then the guilt came raging forward, teeth bared.
My phone rang, muffled and distant yet louder than thunder.
The first ring brought me into the present. The second ring had me scrambling to my feet and running across the mat. On the third I had my phone gripped in my hand, thinking wildly that it was probably Tomio, calling from across the villa. He’d come to his senses and wanted to talk. I was so sur
e, I didn’t even look at the screen. The answer button blazed before my eyes. I slid it to the right and held the phone to my ear.
“Hi—hello?”
“Saxony.”
It wasn’t Tomio, and my hands were shaking. “Gage?”
“How are you?” He was smiling. I could hear it in his voice.
“Good. Good. I’m great. How are you?” I straightened and my knees popped, scrambling to orient myself mentally. I put a hand to my forehead, wondering if my brain was still there or if it had packed up and gone. Bye-bye, see ya.
Gage chuckled. “Did I catch you in the middle of something? You sound like a stunned arse. Where are you?”
“I’m in the CTH. I was training with Tomio, but he’s—he just left, I’m training by myself now.” Did that sound as stupid to him as it sounded to me?
I should tell Gage what happened, just put it out there in the open. It just happened. I hadn’t intended for it to happen and I didn’t think Tomio had either. Our lips just—just what? Tripped over one another and liked the feeling so they kept on tripping? Is that what you’re going to say? Don’t be stupid. You can’t tell Gage that you kissed Tomio, or that Tomio kissed you. Not now, not over the phone. You’re distraught. You’re confused.
You’re a cheater, screamed a high-pitched, hysterical voice. Cheater! Skank! Cheap, tarty cheat! The voice howled, pointed its long invisible finger with a very sharp nail on the end of it.
I gulped, suffocating.
Gage was talking. “…Pompeii, but it was so freaking hot you could fry an egg…”
The words ‘fry an egg’ seemed to echo. They came through the phone into my right ear, but then entered a second time in my left ear … from outside the CTH.
Gage appeared at the door. He put his hands out in a little ta-da gesture, his phone in one hand, still connected to mine.
I dropped my phone, my heart convulsing.
He swept me up in a hug and buried his face in my hair, inhaling. The room spun and, somehow, I gathered my eyeballs and swallowed the shock.
“You’re here!”
“I missed you.” He kissed my neck three times and little explosions followed every one, flowering under my skin and making the base of my skull feel damp.
“I missed you, too.”
He pulled back and smiled into my face. I smiled back, tremulously.
The last ten minutes had been the emotional equivalent of getting hit by a Mack truck. Guilt and shame sizzled in my stomach as I took in the familiar features of Gage’s face.
I had to tell him. I owed him honesty. I opened my mouth to begin but didn’t know how. I couldn’t just blurt it.
“In the end, we had to leave Ryan there. At least for now.” Gage wrapped an arm around my waist and led me toward the door. “But it’ll be okay, I think. Mom feels better just having seen him, and I do too.”
I blinked. I’d missed something. He’d said something to transition the conversation over to Ryan and I’d missed it.
“Really?” I said, just to not be silent and weird.
I stopped to pick up my backpack. Gage began to talk about meeting Ryan at a café outside of some palace called Caserta where they’d filmed scenes for a Star Wars movie.
He took my bag and slung it over his shoulder, chatting, not having a clue about the status that simple gesture raised him to among his kind. Gage was a gentleman, a sweetheart, a selfless and amazing being who didn’t deserve to be lied to or cheated on. I had to tell him. I would tell him.
Just as soon as I figured out how and when to say it.
Twenty-Five
A Disadvantage
Gage and I walked into the cafeteria that evening for dinner, his arm around my waist. Cecily and Dr. Price occupied one table and the rest were empty. Mr. Hoedemaker stood in front of the food, wearing his signature chef’s hat and apron. Bless him, he made such an effort to present himself as a professional, even when there was hardly anyone to serve.
“Where is everyone?” asked Gage, releasing me as we reached the stack of trays.
“The Firethorne students have all gone home.” I took a tray and slid it along the rails, walking in front of Gage. “Babs whisked them away the same day they were disqualified. It’s been like that since the beginning.”
“Do you think they wanted to leave? I’d want to stick around for my teammates, if it were me.” Gage’s words slowed down as we reached the steaming trays and the smell of fish reached our nostrils.
“I’m not sure Babs cares much what her students would prefer,” I replied before smiling at Lars. “Hello, Mr. Hoedemaker.”
“Kibbeling?” He asked, picking up a set of tongs.
“Yes, please.” I handed him my plate.
Gage leaned into me and lowered his voice. “What’s kibbeling?”
“Battered fish. Holland’s equivalent of fish and chips, basically.” I’d come to know the dishes Lars made most often.
With our plates loaded, we went over to join Cecily and Christy.
Gage pulled out a seat and sat down across from me. “So the Firethorne kids have gone home, haven’t any of the Arcturus competitors stuck around?”
Cecily reached for the salt and pepper shakers in the middle of the table. “Yes, Tomio is still here.”
Christy speared a piece of fish with her fork and dipped it in the tartar sauce Lars had made. She sent her daughter a look of surprise. “No, he’s not. I saw him leave in a cab only half an hour ago. Maybe he’s just off on an errand but I don’t think so. He had luggage.”
My fork froze on my way to my mouth.
Christy noticed. “You didn’t know?”
I set down my bite and stalled for time as I took a sip of water. If I admitted that Tomio hadn’t said goodbye, then I’d have to come up with a reason why. Everyone knew we were good friends. If I just told them we’d had a falling out, then that would lead to more questions.
“Yes, I knew,” I lied, pressing my napkin to my lips though I had yet to take a bite of my meal. “His mom was expecting him so he had to go. She’s lost her eyesight in recent years.”
Cecily’s lower lip shot out. “He didn’t even say goodbye to me.”
“Sorry,” I told her with a sympathetic smile, even as I cursed Tomio for putting me on the spot like this. “He must have been in a hurry.”
I picked up my fork and took a bite, but I’d lost my appetite. My heart ached. He’d just left. How disappointing. How cowardly. I processed this quietly, methodically chewing and swallowing as Gage brought Christy and Cecily up to speed about Ryan. It wasn’t until Gage asked about the remaining Firethorne competitor that I dragged my attention back to the conversation.
“So, this Eira. Do I get to meet her?”
Dr. Price swallowed as she set her water down. “Not easily. She eats with Babs and Mr. Bunting in the first-year lounge now that she’s their only competitor. Basil’s sister protects her like she’s made of china.”
“She’s afraid we’ll learn something she doesn’t want us to know,” I said. I sounded bitter, but it was Tomio I was feeling the most sour about.
“What do you mean?” asked Gage.
I looked at Dr. Price, who knew more than I did, but was keeping her eyes down and hadn’t made any move to answer.
“Basil thinks Eira is some kind of hybrid,” I explained, eyes still on Dr. Price.
Her head jerked up, eyes wide. “How do you know that?”
“Something I overheard by accident,” I said, and made it clear that I had no intention of elaborating. “You’ve spoken to him about it. You’ve seen the footage. Is it true?”
She looked uncomfortable. “I’m sorry but I’m not allowed to comment.”
Gage stared. “Basil suspects she’s a hybrid because of how quickly she completed the first round obstacle course?”
“He didn’t seem to react much when Eira’s time was announced. I think it’s more thanks to something he saw in the video afterwards.”
“That
’s why Mum isn’t allowed to say,” Cecily explained. “As part of the regulations, the headmasters and their seconds signed an agreement that once they viewed the footage of each game, they wouldn’t be allowed to speak about anything they saw.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Gage sputtered, setting his fork down. “What’s the point of viewing the footage if you can’t give your own team tips to improve?”
Cecily shook her head. “They can talk to a competitor about their own performance, but they’re not allowed to talk about anyone else’s performances. Get it?”
“Eira beat Tomio’s time by close to an hour,” I reminded Gage. I’d told him this over the phone, but hadn’t had a chance to discuss the suspicions surrounding Eira yet. “There was an obstacle that none of us overcame, a tilting gameboard with holes in it. You were supposed to cross it and get to the other side, but all of us fell through. If you could succeed at that one, you could cut a lot off your time. Maybe even a full hour.”
“You think she did it?”
I shrugged. “It’s my best guess. I don’t know how someone could get across that thing without falling through, especially on the first try. Even exceptional fire-skills wouldn’t help you much, you’d have to have something else, some other ability.”
Christy was looking at me with sad eyes.
“I wish you could say something,” I said.
“Me too.” She looked down at her plate, shoving her food around.
“Draw a picture?” I asked in a light-hearted tone.
She smiled but didn’t look up.
“There’s Guzelköy and Basil,” Cecily said.
Gage and I turned in our seats to look toward the door.
Guzelköy and Basil were not interested in the food, they were headed straight for our table.
“Sorry to bother you over dinner,” Guzelköy said. “Davazlar is speaking to Babs and Eira right now. We wanted you to receive the same information simultaneously, so you have the same amount of time to mentally prepare. May we sit?”
